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AUTHOR: 



JACKSON, WILLIAM 
TAYLOR 



TITLE: 



SENECA AND KANT 



PLACE: 



DAYTON 

DA TE : 

1881 



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Jackson, William Taylor, 1839- 

Seiioca and Kant; or, An exposition of stoic and ra- 
tionalistic ethics, with a comparison and criticism of the 
two systems; by Rev. W. T. Jackson ... Dayton, 0., 
United brethren publisliing house, 1881. 

3 p. 1., iv)-vi p., 2 I., (llj-109 p. 20'^". 



1. Sciicca, Lucius Annaeus. 2. Kan t, Immanuel, 1724-1804. 3. Stoics — 
Hist. 4'. Ethics. 

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SENECfl AND Mm 



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SENECR. 




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AN EXPOSITION OF 



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Stoic and Rationalistic Ethics 



WITH 



A Comparison aijd Criticism of tlje Two Syslenjs 



RY 



REV. W. T. JACKSON, Ph. D. 

Late Professor of Modern Languages in Indiana University 



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"Prove all things ; hold fast that which is good. 



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DAYTON, OHIO 

UNITED BRETHREN PUBLISHING HOUSE ^ 

1881 



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Copyright, iSSi, 
BY W. T. JACKSON. 



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TO 



PROFESSORS COCKER, FRIEZE AND MORRIS 

or MICHIGAN OnvnKSITY, 

HONORED ALIKB FOR SOUND SCHOLARSHIP AND MORAL WORTH, 

This Humble Fruit of Philosophical Study, 

PURSUED UNDER THEIR DIRECTION, 

IS INSCRIBED 

WITH THE RESPECT AND GRATITUDE OF 



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PREFACE. 



Philosophical studies, always important, have in late years 
acquired special significance, when the theories of the past 
and the institutions which embody them ; when law, relig- 
ion, and government, as well as history, literature, and art, 
are undergoing a searching criticism ; when of necessity 
there is a constant recurrence to first principles, and all 
things are brought, as far as possible, to the test of right 
reason. 

The following is a humble contribution to philosophical 
literature in the department of ethics. It was originally 
prepared as a thesis for the Doctor's degree in Michigan 
University, and, at the suggestion of friends, has been en- 
larged and made ready for the press. I have sought in the 
•expository portions to state fairly, as well as clearly and 
briefly, the doctrines of the authors discussed ; to put into 
order and connection what I have found scattered here and 
there ; to avoid technicalities, or explain them ; and to pre- 
serve, as far as may be, in an English dress the expressions 
used by the authors themselves. 

It is precisely one hundred years since Kant's Critique of 
the Pure Reason was first published, his Critique of the PraC' 
iical Reason following seven years later, while Stoicism arose 
as a distinct system more than two thousand years ago. Both 






f 



VI 



PREFACE. 



i 



! 



systems have been widely influential, and they have had 
time to exhibit their fruits. 

It is believed that the subjects treated will be of interest 
not only to those whose vocation, in the pulpit, at the bar, 
or in the halls of instruction, constantly requires them ta 
consider the grave problem of right, but also to that other 
class of thinkers who, apart from their occupation, are 
interested in all that has been thought by the world's great 
intellects of the past. 

The heathen philosopher, ignorant of Christianity, and the 
rationalist, who ignores it, may yet teach us some of the sub- 
limest moral doctrines that are in perfect accord with Chris- 
tianity ; while their very failures serve only, by contrast, to- 
disclose new beauty in its imperishable truths. 

If this book shall serve in any degree to make available 
the thoughts of two eminent leaders of thought, one in the 
ancient and one in the modern world ; if, still more, it shall 
conduce to right thinking on the all-important subject of 
which it treats, and to right acting as well, its end will be 
attained. 

My obligations are gratefully acknowledged to Dr. W. T. 
Harris, late of St. Louis, for the loan of a rare work, and to- 
many esteemed friends for valuable suggestions. 

Academy, Fostoria, Ohio, 

September, 1881. 



\ 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

PACK. 

Introductory — The Rise and Causes of Stoicism — Intel- 
lectual Origin — Historical Origin — Socrates — Zeno — 
Seneca ii 

CHAPTER II. 
The Ethical Doctrines of Stoicism 25 

CHAPTER III. 
The Ethical System of Kant 49 

CHAPTER IV. 
A Comparison and Criticism of the Two Systems 77 







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SENECA AND KANT. 



CHAPTER I. 

Introductory — The Rise and Causes of Stoicism — Intellectual 
Origin — Historical Origin — Socrates — Zeno— Seneca. 

The causes of Stoicism were both intellect- 
ual and political. It is not difficult to trace 
its parentage directly to Cynicism, and in- 
directly to Socrates and Heraclitus ; while 
many points of relationship with Aristotle 
are also visible. Thus the doctrine of an 
ethereal fire, which in regular cycles absorbs 
and consumes all things, is clearly Heracli- 
tean ; the doctrine of a world-soul, and the 
assumed union of matter and spirit (or form) 
are taken from Plato and Aristotle. But as 
we are concerned more directly with the ethics 
of the Stoics, we may add that their greatest 
obligations in this department are to the Cyn« 
ical school of Antisthenes and Diogenes. 

That many-sided philosopher and moral 



7 



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< 1 1 

1 1 

i 



12 






hero, Socrates, had perished at Athens, 399 
B. c. Justly does Dr. Smith call him, in view 
of the powerful impulse which he gave to 
philosophy, and especially as being the in- 
tellectual parent of the great lights that fol- 
lowed him, *'the greatest and most original of 
the Grecian philosophers." * It was natural 
that he should have many followers, and equal- 
ly natural that each of them should compre- 
hend but a part of their master's character 
and doctrine. A Plato might drink deeply 
into his whole spirit and teaching, but Euclid 
could see little more in them than dialectics ; 
Aristippus could understand only the eudie- 
monistic side; while to cynical Antisthenes, 
his master's excellence consisted chiefly in 
his rude and slovenly dress, his disregard 
of all conventionalities, his forbearance un- 
<fer domestic and other tribulations, his 
marvelous self-control and unflinching ad- 
herence to his convictions. 

These men, no doubt, assimilated such 
parts of the admired Socrates as were con 
genial to their own natures; and we may 

•Student's Hist, of Greece, p. 418. 



Seneca and Kant, 



n 



well imagine, therefore, the sternness of 
Antisthenes, when he imbibed all that was 
harsh and forbidding in the character of his 
master. With him virtue alone must be 
sought, enjoyment banished, and self-control 
be the constant watch-word. There must be 
no taste in dress or language, — the balder 
and rougher the better, — with a contempt for 
the religion and government of the times. 
Such, in brief, was Cynicism; and we can 
readily discern in it the very form and marty 
of the lineaments of Stoicism. 

But this was not all. Philosophy usually 
reflects its times. A practical age calls forth 
a practical philosophy ; an eminently rever- 
ential age evokes a theological, often a 
mystical philosophy; while a skeptical, irrev- 
erent age as surely begets a skeptical or 
rationalistic philosophy. When the intellect 
is quickened, and the desire for knowledge 
and refinement is awakened, freedom of 
government, and especially national discus- 
sions and uprisings in the interest of free- 
dom, conspire to enkindle a freedom and 
vigor of thought that seem to border al- 



14 



Seneca and Kant. 



most on the miraculous. Such were the 
Elizabethan age of English, and the Per- 
iclean age of Greek literature. 

Philosophy shares this impulse. In the 
palmy days of Greek freedom, when united 
she feared no foe, when she was mistress 
of both power and culture, thought sympa- 
thized with the general elevation, and soar- 
ed to moral and intellectual heights before 
unattained. Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, 
each in a different way, showed what the' 
human mind can do when, kindled to a 
noble activity, it has proper encouragement 
from society and protection from government. 
But when tyranny is crushing the life out 
of its subjects ; when a base servility shapes 
every thought, sentiment, and custom of the 
age, the spirit of man droops; and as all 
inspiration languishes, philosophy languishes 
also, or perishes altogether. Such was the 
condition of Rome under such monsters as 
Tiberius, Caligula, and Nero, in the days 
of the later Stoicism. 

It is scarcely better when society is in a 
state of constant revolution and chaos ; when 



Seneca a7id Kant. 



IS 



government, religion — all institutions, are giv- 
ing way, and men know not which way to 
look for hope. Such was the unhappy con- 
dition of Greece when Stoicism first sprung 
up and flourished on her soil. Yet as the 
sweetest poetry has often sprung from the 
sorrow of the soul, so some of the richest 
gems of truth have been called forth by the 
afflictions of life. 

In the year 338 B. c, or eighteen years be- 
fore Zeno came to Athens, Philip had giv- 
en the death-blow to Grecian independence 
on the disastrous field of Chseronea. The 
spirit of jealousy and dissension between 
states was rife, and Philip knew how to feed 
it and turn it to his own account. Thus 
jealousy and intestine strife were constantly 
weakening and devouring, until they gave 
way to a common lamentation over a com- 
mon ruin. Alexander might appeal to their 
patriotism ; might lead them forth to conquer 
a world ; might carry his victorious arms from 
the Ister to the Indus, and from the Lybian 
to the Bactrian desert; might spread the 
Greek language and literature everywhere; 



V 



'(i 



i6 



Seneca and Kant, 



but little it mattered to the Greeks, while 
with the language was published the fact 
that they were a conquered nation. 

Nor were they destined to be completely 
absorbed in the new empire, and by forget- 
ting the past to transfer their affections to 
the new dynasty. Rome soon appears on 
the scene, and the role of Philip is played 
again. The overthrow is complete, when 
Greece sinks to the condition of a Roman 
province. 

While these great changes were taking 
place outwardly, what was the condition of 
the internal life of the nation ? We may be 
sure that great changes were occurring there 
also. During and after the Persian wars, Per- 
sian gold was silently but surely corrupting the 
fountains of their strength and purity. With 
the decline of national prosperity and the 
spread of corruption, the religious faith was 
giving way; and what was now to take its 
place ? From the temples of gods and god- 
desses, men turned to the schools and groves 
of the philosophers. 

Socrates had taught some of the noblest. 



Seneca and Kaiit, 



17 



moral precepts, and immortalized them by 
his death. Plato had passed a tranquil life, 
dedicated more to intellectual than to moral 
aims. Aristotle had reared a solid and mag- 
nificent intellectual structure, but had been 
compelled, on a false charge, to flee from 
the city for his life. And now, as interest in 
the nation declines, interest in the individu- 
al increases. No longer is the old theory 
prevalent, that the individual lives for the 
state, but rather he lives within himself. Mil- 
itary and political life, once so glorious, have 
now dropped into mercenary insignificance, 
and have no longer any charms for a noble 
mind. The inner life, the life of the soul, is 
the only safe intrenchment against the ca- 
lamities that beset the world without. 

As Poetter well says: *' While thus sat- 
isfaction in the objective world vanishes, the 
mind withdraws itself into its own subject- 
ivity. It concerns itself no longer about the 
knowledge of the world, but rather about 
freedom from the world."* Zeller remarks 
that **the bloom of Greek philosophy was 



•Geschichte der Philoiophic, Theil I., p. xoob 



i8 



Seneca and Kant, 



short-lived."* Yet let us look among the 
vines for the later vintage ; perhaps we shall 
find a few clusters that have withstood the 
frosts and storms, nay, that have even been 
ripened by their influence. 

We have seen that it was not altogether 
a new thing in Greek philosophy that at- 
tention should be directed chiefly to man. 
Socrates had done this. He had emphasized 
the nobility and superiority of a life of virtue 
over a life of mere sense. The Sophists, 
though with far less noble aims, had done 
the same. They had taught a shrewd, 
money-making, not a noble, elevating phil- 
osophy, in which **man was the center and 
measure of all things." The Cynics, as we 
have seen, though with an entirely opposite 
purpose, did substantially the same. 

Now there arise three schools, side by side, 
whose leaders are priests serving a common 
deity of self, only at different altars. Epi- 
curus sounds the note of pleasure and self- 
satisfaction, preferring indeed that it be vir- 
tuous, but not disallowing it when vicious. 



•Stoics, Epicureans and Sceptics, p. zo. 



Seneca and Kant. 



19 



Pyrrho, of the skeptical school, will rather 
have men refrain from all dogmatizing of 
any sort, and finds peace of mind, he thinks, 
in the cautious attitude of thorough non- 
committalism. His attitude in the world is 
that of a visitor. " Hands off"!" is his watch- 
word. ** Nothing ventured, nothing lost." 
Not so Zeno and Chrysippus. To the heavy 
brunt of calamity and woe, they bring the 
active resistance of a mind, fortified by the 
determination to cling to virtue, at what- 
ever cost. Thus the course of philosophy 
had long been directed to man, and the 
course of events now tended to keep it 

there. 

The founder of Stoicism* was Zeno of Cit- 
tium in Cyprus, who by the accident of a 
shipwreck was brought to Athens about 320 
B. c. Having studied the Cynic, Megaric, 
and Academic philosophies, he founded, 310 
B. c, a school of his own, called Stoic, from 
the 2'roi TzotxiXriy where it assembled. Him- 
self and his school were held in high re- 
spect by the Athenians, who honored him 



♦Zeller, also Ueberweg, Hist, of Phil. Vol. I., sub Toce. 



20 



Seneca and Kant, 



Seneca and Kant. 



21 



after his death with a tomb and brazen mon- 
ument at the public expense. His writings, 
though numerous, have all been lost. He 
was succeeded by Cleanthes, of Assos, whose 
celebrated hymn to the Deity is still extant. 

But by far the most noteworthy personage 
in the early Stoic philosophy was Chrysip- 
pus,* of Soli in Cilicia. He so developed 
and elaborated the system that he has de- 
servedly been called the second founder of 
Stoicism. He was a most voluminous writ- 
er, his works numbering seven hundred and 
five. Other representatives of Greek Sto- 
icism were Persseus, Aristo of Chios, Heril- 
lus of Carthage, Diogenes of Seleucia, and 
Antipater of Tarsus. These names are 
found in the flourishing period of Greek 
Stoicism, or in the century and a half suc- 
ceeding its establishment. 

About the middle of the second century 
B. c, Pansetius of Rhodes introduced Stoi- 
cism into Rome, where it gained many dis- 
tinguished and learned disciples ; among them^ 
though with some modifications, Cicero, Lse- 

♦Zeller, p. 40; also, Ucberweg, Vol. I., p. 1858". 



I 



lius. Scipio, Seneca, and the Emperor Marcus 
Aurelius. Other Stoics of this period were 
Posidonius of Apamea, Athenodorus of Tar- 
sus, Diodotus, the teacher of Cicero, Cornu- 
tus, Musonius. and especially Epictetus. In 
these writers, though we often find all the 
harshness and rigor of the early Stoic doc 
trine, yet on the whole, in theory and practice 
a decided leaning toward Eclecticism pre- 
vails. 

L. Annseus Seneca, upon whose presenta- 
tion of Stoicism we shall chiefly rely, was 
born at Cordova, Spain, about the year 5. 
A. D. The family removed to Rome, where 
he was favored with wealth and the highest 
social and educational advantages. He was 
soon an advocate of prominence, then quaes- 
tor. But the jealousy of Caligula and Clau- 
dius resulted in his exile to Corsica. There 
for eight years he gave himself closely to the 
study of philosophy. 

On the accession of Nero he is recalled, 
made prtetor, and becomes tutor of the em- 
peror, whose ungovernable lust and cruelty, 
however, he is totally powerless to restrain. 



( < 



22 



Seneca and Kant. 



Now he rides on the full tide of wealth, hon- 
or, and royal favor, preserving, however, amid 
all this splendor, a Stoic abstemiousness in 
his habits. Soon the nobles are jealous and 
intrigue against him. He sees with alarm that 
the capricious Nero is alienated from him, and 
fearing a worse fate, offers to surrender to 
him all his vast wealth. This proposal, with 
his retirement from the city, hardly appeases 
the despot's anger. On the outbreak of the 
conspiracy of Piso, he is charged with being 
a participant. Nero resolves on his death. 
Seneca does not await the issue, but like a 
true Stoic, hears the tidings with calmness, as 
the voice of fate, and takes his life by a lin- 
gering death. His philosophical works had 
been composed partly during his exile in Cor- 
sica, partly in brief intervals snatched from 
political cares, and partly in retirement after 
his loss of royal favor. 



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CHAPTER 11 



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CHAPTER II. 

The Ethical Doctrines of Stoicism.* 

What, now, is philosophy with the Stoics ? 
It is wholly a practical matter, the knowledge 
and practice of the means to be used to se- 
cure inward tranquillity and happiness. It is, 
hence, essentially ethical, and the study of 
logic and physics is entirely subordinated to 
this end. To use one of their comparisons, 
logic is the shell, physics the white, and eth- 
ics the yolk ; or, again, logic is the skeleton, 
physics the flesh, and ethics the soul.f 

Their theory of physics has a close and 
important bearing on their ethical doctrine. 
They assume in nature two ultimate principles, 
— matter and force. Matter is passive, and 
capable of receiving all motion ; the working, 
noving force is God, and these are insepara- 

•The followiivg account of Stoicism has been drawn chiefly from Seneca's 
Z)f ProvidenttA, De Tranquillitate Antmi, De Brevitate Vitee^ De Vita 
Beata and EptjiflcK, the author seeking, in this and the following chapter, 
merely to act a; a faithful interpreter, suffering Seneca and Kant, ^ much 
M.% possible, to speak for themselves, and reserving for a future chapter a 
<iiscu«sion of their doctrines 

f Posidonius in Ueberweg, Vol. I., Art. Stoicism. 



I 



26 



Seneca and Kant, 



bly united. They reason thus : The universe 
is limited and spherical, and though possess- 
ing great variety of parts, is substantially a 
unity. This unity, as a whole, must be more 
perfect than any of its parts, some of which 
we see to be self-conscious. Hence, the 
universe is pervaded by an ethereal fire, 
which is its soul and reason; that is, God. 
By an absolute necessity, or inner law of the 
divine reason, all things are, in definite pe- 
riods, absorbed into the Deity, to be evolved 
anew at the appointed time. The soul of 
man is an emanation from the Deity, and as 
such may outlive the body, but can not endure 
beyond the cycle to which it belongs. In this 
doctrine of physics we can readily recognize, 
though with a new application, Plato*s idea of 
a world-soul, and Aristotle's union of matter 
and form, before alluded to ; while the bear- 
ing of the doctrine toward fatalism, panthe- 
ism, and materialism will be distinctly noticed. 

Almost all the ethical doctrines of the Sto- 
ics may be comprised in the two propositions : 

I. That virtue consists in conformity to 
nature. 



Seneca and Kant. 



27 



II. That virtue is sufficient for happiness. 

But it is very important to understand pre- 
cisely what the Stoics mean by the terms 
** happiness," *• virtue," and '^ conformity to 
nature," or we can gain no intelligible idea 
of their system. 

I . Vi rtue consists in conf ormity tn vnfu^i> 

According to Zeno, the ethical end of man 
is ''to live in harmony with one's self;" ac- 
cording to Cleanthes, it is ** to live conforma- 
bly to nature,"— that is, to the course of the 
universe; while Chrysippus combines both 
man and nature. ''Live," says he, "accord- 
ing to your experiefice of the course of nat- 
ure." Among the later Stoics there is the 
same difference. Diogenes Babylonius would 
have •* prudence and reason " used in select- 
ing ** things according to nature." Antipater 
of Tarsus would make it *• the unvarying 
choice of things conformable, and rejection of 
things nonconformable, to nature." So, sub- 
stantially, Pansetius and Posidonius. Seneca, 
with his usual terseness, says it is sufficient to 
say simply, *« L iving conformab lv :" that is, 
consistently; since it is_on]iLJ:£asxiaJthat will 



28 



Seneca and Kant, 



always choose the same things and reject the 

It will be seen that there is some diversity 
of views expressed as to what this nature is, 
to which conformity is required,— whether it is 
the rational nature of man, or the system ot 
laws established by the Deity. Both views 
are held, without much attempt to reconcile 
them; but the emphasis is laid chiefly on the 
latter, as the sequel will show. 

We are thus brought face to face with the 
assumption, already hinted at in the physics, 
that there is a course of the universe, a 
mighty machinery of fate, whose wheels roll 
on perpetually, and powerless our help or 
hinderance. Our duty is but to submit.^ 
*^Fate leads us on," says Seneca, "and what ^ 
of time remains for each of us, the first hour 
of our birth allotted. ♦ * * A long time 
ago it was appointed what you should rejoice 
over, what you should weep over. Cause de- 
pends upon cause, and * * * nothing 
happens, but it comes y\ 

•Ueberweg's Hist. Phil., Vol. I., pp. 198-200. 

tSenecas Moral Es.ays. Hurst & Whiting's Ed., De Providentia. Cap. V 



Seneca and Kant, 



29 



But this course of nature is not a mere 
blind and irrational mechanism that works, it 
knows not why ; it is the expression of the 
Supreme Reason of the universe, the voice of 
the Deity himself. It is the all-controlling law 
from which even God is not exempt. Says 
Seneca, **The Founder and Controller of all 
things wrote the fates, indeed, but he obeys 
them himself; he commanded once, he obeys 
always r* by which I understand that the 
course of nature which he established is a 
rational one, and he obeys it therefore volun- 
tarily. This explains why the terms **fate" 
and ** providence," "reason" and "nature," , 
are used interchangeably. 

The first great duty of a wise man, there* 
fore, is uncon ditional submission to the co urse 
of nature. As he is, in part at least, a 
rational being, he must voluntarily ^pknow l- 
edge and obey the rational p rH^^r of \\\f^ uni- 
verse. " What is the duty of a wise man?" 
asks Seneca. " To surrender himself to fate. 
It is a great comfort to be borne along with 
the universe. We are all chained to fortune, 



\ 



•Ibid.,Cap. VI. 



30 



Seneca and Kant, 



Seneca and Kant. 



31 



but what does it matter ? The same custody 
surrounds all, and they are themselves bound 
who have bound us."* Nor will he do this 
grudgingly. On the contrary, so ready will 
he be to accede to the demands of so elevat- 
ed a law, that he would even anticipate its 
requirements if he knew them, and obey 
them in advance, /v 

If obedience requires suffering, it matters 
not. ** Whatever must be endured in accord- 
ance with the constitution of the universe,** 
says Seneca, **will be [cheerfully accepted 
and] turned to account (usurpetur) by a great 
mind. By this oath we have been bound, to 
bear those earthly ills which it is out of our 
power to avoid, and not to be disturbed by 
them. We have been born in a government: 
toobevGod is liberty Good men are not 
h7^[^^p£T^ Fortun e^ thevfbllow and^k eep 
up with her ; if they had known, they would 
have^nticipated her.**t Demetrius com- 
plains of the Deity for not making known his 
will. He says he would rather offer than sur- 
render. His children, his health, his life 



•De Tranq. An., X., 3, 3. 



fDe Viu Beata, XV., 6. 



might be taken — his consent should not be 
withheld; ** for,** says he, '^ know that all 
things occur according to a fixed law, decreed 
for all time.*' 

The watch-word of the true Stoic is well 
expressed in the following lines from the 
hymn of Cleanthes, translated thus by Cicero : 

**Duc, O parens, celsique dominator poll, 
Quocumque placuit : nulla parendi mora est, 
**•♦*♦ 

Ducunt volentem /atn^ in^..^.... f.,i^tfrtf ' ' 

Which may be retranslated freely as fol- 
Jows : 

I Lead me, O Parent, ruler of high heaven, 

Where'er thou'rt pleased ; I'll not be tardy to obey. 

y The fates e'er /^ad the willing man ; unwilling ones they dra^. I 

I Thus, as Zeller has said, virtue, with the! 
Stoic, begins with acknowledging the rational 1 
order of the universe, and ends with unhesi-J 

\tating obedience to it. 

II. In this submission to the course of nature, » \ 
or virtue, and it alone, is found true happi-\ ^ 
ness. " To live happily," says Seneca, "js 
the same thing as to live according to nat- 






>^ 



O 



i^ 



li 



22 Seneca and Kant. 

ure."* This is not to be confounded with 
;i^e pleasure : these are with the Stoic very 
different things. Happiness is that calm en- 
joyment of the soul which is connected only 
with virtue. It is the harmony of the soul, 
in which it is conscious of no dissension nor 
hesitation, but of perfect compliance with its 
own reason, and, therefore, the reason of the 
universe. Hence Seneca says, "You may 
therefore boldly avow that the highest good 
[virtue] is the harmony of the soul."t Pleas- 
ure, on the contrary, springs from our pas- 
sions, our desires, and our hopes. These 
fluctuate; nor does it always attend even 
these. Happiness, however, always attends 
virtue; they are indissolubly united. Pleas- 
ure depends on externals, which are beyond 
our control ; happiness has an unfailing fount- 
ain within the soul. Pleasure leads to evil; 
virtue takes us from evil. Pleasure is found 
among the basest ; happiness only among the 
good. Pleasure, therefore, is to the wise 
man something entirely indifferent and ad- 
ventitious, while virtue is an end in itself. 



Seneca and Kant. 



33 



•De Vita Beata, VIII.. X. 



tibid., VIII., 5. 



But if virtue is sought for happiness, it is 
no longer virtue. However pure a thing 
happiness may be, it never c^in usurp the 
place of virtue, and become the highest good. 
Virtue alone i s the sum n^mJiOiium, the all, 
the end of life. Yet men are perpetually 
confounding the highest good with pleasure 
and happiness, and asking, **What do we 
seek to gain by virtue?" as if there could 
be anything more than the whole, or any- 
thing beyond the end. ** You mistake,'* says 
Seneca, **when you ask. What is that for the 
sake of which I seek virtue ? for you ask for 
something higher than the highest. Do you 
ask what I seek from Virtue ? Herself! for 
she has nothing better; she is her own re- 
ward."* 

**Just as in a field which has been plowed 
for a crop, some flowers spring up; yet not 
for these flowers, however much they delight 
the eye, was so much labor expended. The 
planter had another purpose ; this was inci- 
dental. So also happiness is neither the re- 
ward nor the cause of virtue, but a mere 

♦De Vita Beata., IX., i, a. 



I 



i ^ 






!fl 



34 



Seneca and Kant, 



incident of it/'* Happiness is called, there- 
fore, only the companion, the accompaniment, 
the shadow (^comes^ accessio^ umbra) of vir- 
tue. Hence the paradox : Not to need hap- 
piness is happiness. 

After this general view of their doctrine, 
let us examine more closely their theory of 
perfect conformity to nature, and of happiness 
as resulting from this conformity. In doing 
so, two problems at once present themselves, 
namely : 

1. To show that everything (even, for ex- 
ample, the inequalities of our lot, the oppo- 
sition and tyranny of the wicked) does occur 
according tc a rational course of nature. 

2. To explain the possibility of that per- 
fect conformity to this course of nature, which 
the theory presupposes. Let us see how the 
Stoics dispose of these difficulties. 

I. We must first inquire what end the 
lifiity proposes in the government of the 
universe. As he is the S qpreme^ ^ason, he 
can not be under the control of passion, and 
hence can not be malevolent. He manifestly 



Seneca and Kant, 



35 



# 



1^ 

'% 



•Ibid. 



proposes that man shall be governed by t he 
same law of reason to which he h as volun- 
tarily su^j e^cted himself^^ and conjb rmit y to 
which constitutes virtue. Nothing in the 
world, therefore, is important but virtue and 
vice ; nothing else need be earnestly sought 
or shunned. All the objects that men or- 
dinarily seek or fear are entirely indifferent 
(ddcdifopa). External goods are but bag- 
gage ; they are delusive and vain. True 
blessings, on the contrary, are internal and 
enduring. The only things we need to feaP 
are ** crimes, base thoughts, evil intentions,, 
lust, avarice;"* the only good we need t( 
seek is virtue. The sage may be imprison 
ed, slandered, deprived of every external 
blessing and even life, but while he posses- 
ses this treasure he is tranquil and happy. 

But does everything, even calamity and 
reproach, take place according to a rational 
plan? "Yes," answers the Stoic. The course 
of the world has been arranged, not to secure 
pleasure, but virtue, and therefore enduring 
happiness. It is unreasonable, argues Sen 

^De Prov., VI., I. 



it \ 



A 



36 



Seneca and Ka7ii, 



Seneca and Kant, 



37 



eca, that the Good should injure the good* 
They have the common bond of virtue to 
unite them ; and good men are imitators and 
emulators of the Supreme Good. But virtue' 
requires discipline ; and hence good men are 
inured to toil and hardships, while the wick- 
ed are allowed to be voluptuous and sensual. 
Like athletes, the good must be subjected 
to severe discipline ; they must wrestle and 
struggle with capricious Fortune, and endure 
all her buffetings manfully. How could the 
excellence of virtue be seen without trial ? 
Where would be patience, if there were no 
bereavements and losses ? So lofty is Virtue, 
we need not expect to reach her by a level 
path : we must look for precipitous heights 
and toilsome climbing. Hence another par- 
adox : ** The ills of life are not ills, except 
to those who bear them ill."* 

But while the Deity's discipline is stern> 
It is also loving. He well knows that un- 
troubled pleasure, like the fattening of ani- 
mals for the stall, produces helplessness. He 
admires the bold struggling and moral forti- 

*Ibid.f passim. 



tude of a brave man ; and as the most gifted 
pupils receive the hardest tasks, and the 
bravest soldiers are chosen for the most per- 
ilous assaults, so it is a mark of his favor to 
be chosen as an adversary of Fortune. Pros- 
perity is given only to the mass, and to those 
of low talents. So again we have the para-/ / 
dox : ** Never to have been miserable is toi/i 
be miserable." 

How, now, will one of noble mind receive 
this discipline of Providence? He will re- 
gard all adversities as disciplines, and, amid 
all the assaults of Fortune, he will stand as 
unchangeable as the saltness of the sea. 
While not without sensibility, he will remain 
placid, never yielding to circumstances, but 
making everything conduce to the attainment 
of virtue. Thus, by putting a favorable con-- 
struction on everything, the ills of life will 
lose their bitterness ; he will become indiffer- 
ent to Fortune, and even dare her to do her 
worst. Like the gladiator who sighed that 
the flower of his youth was passing, and that 
exhibitions were so rare, he will long for an 
occasion to call forth his heroism, lest his 



%\ 



38 



Seneca and Kant. 



virtue fade by disuse. Far from self-seeking^ 
and love of pleasure, his will be the spirit 
of a Mucius Scaevola, calmly holding his 
hand in the flames, from patriotism, or of a 
Regulus, suffering torture but not disgrace. 
Never will he suffer from luxury; leave that 
for a Maecenas or a Nero. His sufferings, 
if such they can be called, will be of another 
sort.* 

He now knows, too, and can trust himself. 
Not like one who has obtained the empty 
glory of a crown at Olympia without a com- 
petitor, he has won his by the sweat and 
dust of a hotly-contested race. He stands 
also as a living example, to show that the 
opinions of the multitude concerning bless- 
ings and trials are false. " He spends and 
is spent willingly." f He regards his life 
and whatever he possesses as not his own, 
but as lent to him. Whenever he shall be 
bidden to return it, he will not complain to 
Fortune, but will say, " I give you thanks 
for that which I have possessed and enjoyed. 
I have tilled your property at great cost, it 



•Dc Prov., n., X ff. 



tlbid., v., 3. 



Seneca and Kant, 



39 



is true, but because you command, I give 
it up. I surrender it cheerfully and willingly; 
♦ ♦ * take back a soul better than you 
gave it; I do not evade you nor flee from 

you. 

2. We are now ready to inquire as to 
the possibility of such a perfect conformity 
to the co urse of j iature.asjt he theory r equires. 
Admittino- that no real evil can befall the 
Stoic's good man; that he possesses the 
divine alchemy of transmuting every loss 
and cross into a blessing, can all obtain 
this magic power? Can the sage at all 
times retain it? This is the crucial test of 

Stoicism. 

They confess that, li ke the or igi nal dual - | 
ism of matter and_reason .in the universe, ^ 
there is a dualism of passion j,nd_j;eason_in 
man, with this difference, that passion, alas ! 
is~ever active. But they maintain that emo- 
tion always springs from false imagination, 
and never exists with a rational view of 
things. Thus from a false and irrational 
conception of present and futu re good spring 

♦De Tranq. An., XL, i, a, 3. 



40 



Seneca and Kani, 



pleasure and desire, and from imaginary 
present and future ill, care and fear.* In 
reality there is no ground for them. They 
are diseases of the soul, and a sure evidence 
of lack of self-control. The sage, there- 
fore, must be absolutely free from passion. 
If any exception be made, he may smile at 
the follies of men ; but even this is, as a 
rule, to be avoided. To do otherwise would 
be to make indifferent things objects of im- 
portance. Why should he grieve over phys- 
ical pain, reproach, or loss of property, friends, 
or reputation ? They are not evils for him- 
self, and if not, why grieve when they fall 
to the lot of others ? Says Seneca : **A11 
things, therefore, are to be made light of 
and borne with tranquil mind. To be tort- 
ured with others' misfortunes is a perpetual 
misery ; to rejoice over them is an inhuman 
pleasure. "f He even goes so far as to say 
that it is a useless sympathy to weep and 
knit one's brow, ev^en though some one is 
burying his daughter.;}: 

We can now understand why some of the 

*Cf. Zeller, p 237. fDc Tranq. An., XV., a-4. |Ibid., XV., 4, 



I 



Seneca and Kant, 



41 



Stoics say that virtue is conformity v^^ith the 
nature of the universe, and others, that it is 
conformity with the nature of man. These 
^definitions may be interpreted as identical. 
The course of the universe is founded on 
reason, and the true nature of man is reason. 
'• What can be better for us, who have re- 
<:eived a rational nature,'* says Seneca, **than 
reason.*'* **Zeno,"says Cicero, ** placed all 
the virtues in reason.*' f And Cicero himself 
5ays, ^'Virtue can be briefly defined as right 
reason." J I n reason , therefore, ajpne does 
m an find his harmony and oa enpss witk. the 
ujiiverse^ By its magic power all discord, 
internal and external, ceases. Calm, indif- 
ferent to all else, he embarks on the stream 
of fate, his mind fixed on this single object, 
that no side-currents nor adverse winds shall 
hinder him or drift him ashore. 

To maintain this supremacy of reason, 
now, certain precepts are repeatedly insisted 
upon: 

(i.) The passions must be thoroughly sub- 



♦Dc Vita Beata., XIV., i. 
JTusc. Disp., IV., IS, 34. 



fCic. Acad., I., xo. 



n, 



)i> 



a 



42 



Seneca and Kant. 



Seneca and Kant. 



43 



/ 



f 



dued and even extirpated. **The greatest 
and noblest thing and most like the Deity/'* 
we are told, ''is, Not to be disturbed.'* The 
mind must remain in a placid state — never 
filated, never depressed. Only thus can the 
sage maintain his supremacy of reason. 

(2.) He must withdraw from public affairs,, 
and all exciting scenes, whenever his tran- 
quillity and independence are threatened. 
What cares he for politics or state ? The 
world is his country. Honor is but vanity, 
wealth is but a burden, patriotism an irration- 
al passion. His virtue is his only treasure,, 
and nothing is to allure him from it. 

(3.) He must also accustom himself to the 
greatest simplicity in apparel, food, furniture, 
— in all his surroundings. Luxury ministers 
only to passion ; it must be proscribed as a 
deadly foe. *'We must be accustomed,'* says 
Seneca, ** to remove from ourselves all dis- 
play, * * * to restrain all luxury, to 
govern our appetites, and to measure things 
by their use, not by their ornament."f Wealth- 
must not be sought. An amount but littU 

•Dc Tranq. An., II., 3, 4. flbid., IX., i, a. 



removed from poverty, and far removed from 
riches, so that his independence shall not be 
sacrificed on the one hand, nor his vanity 
tempted on the other, is to be the limit of his 
wishes. 

(4.) Above all, he must withdraw within 
himself, and find in contemplation a satisfac- 
tion which he despairs of finding, and is 
forbidden to seek, in the world. ''In se revo- 
candtmt est r ''in se recedendum est,''* is the 
favorite text on which the Stoic teachers love 
to dwell, and to which they constantly revert. 
In short, the sage is to be jealous of Fortune; 
he is to trust himself as little as possible to 
her caprices ; he is to be ready at all times 
for the worst, and never to be disconcerted by 
it. With but few sails spread, the rest cau- 
tiously furled, prepared for all weathers and 
accidents, he is to stand persistently at the 
helm, from which no amusements are to en- 
tice, nor storms drive him away. 

But what if adversities are too severe for 
mortal flesh and blood ? Can that ever hap- 
pen ? " Yes, it may," say the Stoics. When- 

♦We must withdraw [the mind]; must retire within ourselves. 



i I 



44 



Seneca and Kant, 



ever the sage by living must forfeit his 
independence by reason of tyranny, poverty, 
or other unavoidable evils, he may and ought 
to take his own life. **The door stands 
open,*' says Seneca; ''life is easily taken,"* 
and life and death are things indifferent. The 
sage never fears death. When impassable 
barriers surround him, he will know that it is 
the voice of the Deity summoning him, and 
he will obey. This precept was faithfully 
executed by Zeno, Cleanthes, Cato Minor, 
Seneca, and others. 

To recapitulate: The Stoics teach the 
original dualism of matter and force ; that this 
force is the Supreme Reason, the soul of the 
universe; that the Supreme Reason has es- 
tablished a rational course of the universe, 
by which all things take place according to a 
fixed law or fate ; that he himself is subject 
to this law ; that it is the duty of the wise 
man to conform to this law, since he is a 
rational being; that this conformity consti- 
tutes virtue, and virtue secures happiness; 
that to this end hardships, t rials, and losses 

•Dc Pror., VI., 6, and Cic. Tusc. Disp., I., 74. 



Seneca and Kant, 



45 



are allotted by the Deity to the virtuous man 
as a discipline ; that virtue is the only good 
and a sufficient good ; that all other so-called 
goods are illusive and spring from passion, 
and not reason ; that passion is therefore to 
be repressed, and reason invariably obeyed ; 
that all which ministers to passion is to be 
curtailed or avoided, and contemplation and 
satisfaction in one*s self cultivated ; and, final- 
ly, that no evils are to be feared but wicked- 
ness, — not even death, which is to be sought 
when virtue can not otherwise be maintained. 



I * 



CHAPTER III 



CHAPTER III. 
The Ethical System of Kant. 

We are now ready to compare with the 
foregoing system the doctrine of Kant. 

Immanuel Kant, the founder of the Critical 
or Transcendental School of German phi- 
losophy, was born at Konigsberg, Prussia, in 
1 724. He was of Scottish descent, the orthog- 
raphy of the family name, originally Cant, 
having been changed to Kant to prevent the 
pronunciation, Tsant. He was a profound 
linguist, mathematician, and philosopher; yet 
not early did his superior abilities command 
public recognition. Not till his forty-sixth 
year (1770) was he appointed professor of 
logic and metaphysics in the university of his 
native city. His life was devoted to study; 
and such was his aversion to travel that he 
is said never to have gone farther than thirty- 
two miles from Konigsberg. 

In person he was short and very spare, his 
feeble frame and hollow chest betokening an 



X 



50 



Seneca and Kani, 



early death, rather than the long and labo- 
rious life which was granted to him. While 
simple in dress and manners, he was rigidly 
methodical in all his habits. Study, diet, 
sleep, and exercise were regulated with 
mathematical precision. Independence was a 
marked trait of his character. During his 
student career at the university, he was com- 
pelled to maintain a constant struggle with 
poverty, yet he preferred to wear a shabby 
coat rather than accept any proffers of as- 
sistance. When he had risen to eminence he 
was visited by throngs of admirers, whom he 
took great pleasure in entertaining, but al- 
ways strictly within the limits of time which 

he had marked out for himself. 

Although a profound thinker, he was also 
interested in lighter themes, and read and re- 
read such works as **Tale of a Tub,'* and 
"Hudibras.** As a lecturer, he was entertain- 
ing and popular, and attracted crowds of stu- 
dents and visitors. His friendships were warm 
and lasting. The attachment between him 
and the English merchant. Green, has a touch 
of romance in it. His manners were agree- 



If 

11 






Seneca and Kant. 



51 



able and he was entertaining even to chil- 
dren His benevolent disposition is shown 
in his liberal bestowments while living, and 
the generous disposition of his property at 
his dealh. His calm and meditative life was 
protracted to fourscore years, his death oc- 
curring in 1804. 

His published works are numerous, fer- 
haps the best known are his "Critique* of the 
Pure Reason," "Critique of the Practical Rea- 
son •• "Critique of the Faculty of Judgment,^^ 
'.Religion within the Limits of Reason Alone, 
and "A General History of Nature and The- 
ory of the Heavens." The following state- 
ment of his doctrine has been drawn chiefly 
from his "Groundwork (or Fundamental Pnn- 
ciples) of the Metaphysic of Ethics." 

KANT'S ETHICS. 

It will be convenient to consider the subject 
under the following heads : 

I, The Doctrine. II. Its Ground. III. 
Its End. IV. Its Postulates. 

♦Or, Critical Examination. 



52 



Seneca and Kant, 



I. Kant sets out with the assertion that 
there is nothing in the world that can be 
called absolutely and entirely good but a 
good will. This is good, not for the beneficial 
effects that it produces, but in and of itself. If 
happiness were the true object of nature in 
the constitution of man, he has certainly beeiv 
very poorly constituted to attain this end. 
Instinct would have reached it far more un- 
erringly than reason. In fact, the more 
purposely a refined mind seeks its own en- 
joyment, the less true contentment it finds. 
This proves that reason has a higher and 
nobler end than happiness ; namely, to pro- 
duce in us a good will, not for any ulterior 
end, but as a good in itself.* 

When, now, Kant comes to develop the 
notion of a good will, he finds involved in it 
the cognate notion of duty, which must first 
be explained. This he finds to be independ- 
ent of all ideas of expediency, usefulness, 
inclination, or subserviency to other purposes: 
it is an end in itself. It is ''the obligation 



♦Grundlcgung zur Mctaphysik dcr Sitten. von Kirchmann'. ed., Scite 
sa ff. Also, Abbott's and Scrapie's translations. 



Seneca and Kant. 



53 



• 

to an action, which arises from respect for the 
moral law."* Thus my reason declares a 
certain course of conduct to be right. This 
is for me the moral law. As a rational being, 
I must respect its behests, and am obligated 
to perform them. This obligation is duty. 

This conception of duty, therefore.— wheth- 
er we consider its source, as not coming from 
without, but as self-imposed by the reason ; or 
its essence, as respecting not primarily the 
outward action, nor the effects which such ac- 
tion might produce, but first of all. the atti- 
tude of the actor to the moral law itselt. 
namely, that of respect.-necessarily leads 
us back to the conception of a good will. In 
the language of Kant. " The notion of duty 
includes that of a good will, although under 
certain subjective limitations and hinderances. 
These, however, far from concealing it or 
rendering it unrecognizable, rather bring it 
out by contrast, and make it shine the 

brighter."t , , . 

But here we must not confound things 

that are apparently the same, but radically 



• v. Kirch., p. i8. 



flbid., p. X4- 



V 



54 



Seneca and Ka7it. 



Seneca and Kant, 



different. For example, it is the duty of a 
merchant not to overcharge his customers. 
Commercial prudence also dictates the same 
course. But actions springing from the latter 
motive are utterly void of moral value. It is 
also a duty to preserve one's life. Most men 
do so from the constitution of their nature. 
But only when a man, in the presence of 
distress and sorrow, would fain choose death, 
yet refuses it, influenced by duty alone, does 
his course in this respect have any moral 
worth. To use Kant's words: **An action 
performed out of duty must entirely exclude 
the influence of inclination,'' and of **every ob- 
ject to be gained by it ; so that there remains 
nothing that can determine the will, but, ob- 
jectively, the law, and, subjectively, pure 
reverence for it."* 

Now, the first characteristic of the mora) 
law is, that it commands, and commands 
without any condition. Its absolutely un- 
conditional mandate is, -Thou shalt ! thou 
oughtest!" The moral law takes the form 
of a command, since man is a sensuous as 



55 



♦Ibid., p. 19. 



well as rational being, and does not conform 
to its requirements without effort and sacrifice. 
In the technical language of Kant, "All im- 
peratives are expressed by the word otight^ 
and indicate thereby the relation of an object- 
ive law of reason to a will which, by virtue 
of its subjective constitution, is not 7iecessarily 
determined by it."* 
^^' Now, all imperatives command either hy- 
pothetically or categorically." When the 
action commanded is good **onIy as a means 
to something else y' the imperative is hypothet- 
ical ; but when the action is conceived as good 
in itself, that is, as the actjon of a will "which 
of itself conforms to reason," the imperative 
is categorical. Thus all the precepts of pru- 
dence, or skill in the relation of means to 
one's greatest welfare, are hypothetical; "the 
action is not commanded absolutely, but only 
as a means to another purpose." 

But " there is an imperative which com- 
mands a certain conduct immediately, without 
proposing as a condition any other purpose 
to be attained by it. This imperative is cat- 

^Ibid., p. 34. 



\ 



■ m 



\ I 



if 



11 



f ! 



56 



Seneca avd Kant. 



egorical, ♦ * * and what is essentially 
good in it consists in the mental disposition, 
let the consequence be what it will." This 
is the imperative of morality. I may have 
rules of skill and cou?isels of prudence, but^ 
only commands of morality. 

In the case of a holy will,— for example, the 
divine, the imperative would be entirely in- 
applicable. **Thou shalt" were misapplied to 
such a will, it being already of its own accord 
in harmony with the law. But with man the 
case is altogether different. His sensuous 
nature, his appetites, desires, and passions 
are constantly clamoring for gratifications that 
are in entire opposition to the moral law. To 
be happy is his desire— ** a desire which every 
finite rational being necessarily has, since he 
has unsatisfied wants.'f But happiness is of 
empirical origin ; it has no certain basis ; it is 
conditioned by circumstances; it is variable; 
it is selfish. **To promote our happiness, 
therefore, never can be an immediate duty; 
still less can it be the principle of all duty/ *$ 

»v. Kirch, pp 36-39- , , t» if « .cA 

tKritik der praktischen Vernunft. Abbott s tranil. Rem. II., p. 15O. 

JIbid., p. 367. 



Seneca and Kant. 



57 



■ /i 



The moral law, on the contrary, utters its im- 
perative without any regard to happiness. 
Man's obedience, consequently, is never per- 
fect, and never rendered without a struggle. 
In Kant's words, ''The moral law represents 
an ideal of holiness not attainable by any 

creature an archetype toward which we are 

ever to approximate. An infinite approxima- 
tion toward holiness of will is all that is pos- 
sible for man or any other finite being."* 

This mandatory character of the law indi- 
cates the proper attitude of a finite intelligence 
toward it; namely, that of respect or rever- 
ence. Kant will have nothing more nor less 
than this. Thi* respect arises from the con- 
ception of a worth and dignity in the law, 
before which all self-love falls. Kant has no 
patience with any other disposition in the per- 
formance of duty. He will not hear of any 
willingness, or desire, or pleasure in connec- 
tion with it. \6uch conceptions of duty are 
*' nothing but moral fanaticism;" they spring 
from self-conceit, and ** beget a vain, over- 
weening, fantastic wa y of thinking.'^f With 

*G zur Met. d S. Semple's transl., pp. 105-132. 
flbid., p. 134. Abbott, p. 154. 



I II 



\' 



t« 



Seneca and Kant. 



ii \ 



^ 



58 



Seneca and Ka7ii, 



59 



him, duty is downright delving in the heat 
and dust; it is painful, humiliating, arduous. 
It is work that requires tense muscle and 
firm resolve — a constant rowing against the 
stream. 

^his respect, though gratifying to reason, is 
necessarily painful to sense, since the moral 
v^ law disregards the claims of the sensory, and 
casts down all self-love and all self-conceit al 
a blow.* Yet man, in his self-conceit, is ever 
seeking to circumvent the law, and fritter it 
down to a means of his own advantage and 
happiness, flattering himself that he ''needs 
neither spur nor rein;"f that he can be a 
volunteer, and, without any command, under- 
take its duties spontaneously, and even with 
love and delight. 

The truth is, however, that its "solemn 
majesty*' so impresses him with its worthiness 
that he can not avoid, whether he will or not^ 
feeling a respect for it. This respect is pain- 
ful to his self-love, and he would fain be rid 
of it. Hence his efforts to find som^ purpose, 
gratifying to sense, in obedience to the law^ 

*Cf. Schweglcr, Hist. Phil., pp. 255-6. 

fCrit. of Prac. Reason. Abbott's transl., pp. 149, 254. 



^i 



and to make conformity to it minister to his 
happiness — as if its holy claims were not 
supreme and to be subordinate to noth- 
inor elseljl 

^But such conformity is mere legality, no 
morality. The unyielding, holy precepts of 
the law "never allow our frivolous self-love to 
dally with sensory excitement, or plume our- 
selves upon our meritorious worth."* Let usi 
not flatter ourselves that the law is our serv- ( 
ant, to minister to our pleasure and bow toj 
our caprices ; it is our rightful lord and mas- 
ter, justly demanding our obedience. Like 
the great law of gravitation in the physical 
world, it consults neither eur convenience nor 
our wishes, but in conscious majesty makes 
its unyielding demands peremptorily. " The / 
grade, then, on the ethical scale, where man 
finds himself, is that of reverence toward the 
law."f His true moral sentiment is virtue, 
not holiness ; he is to be militant, not perfect^ 
^ iTBut what is the nature of this law that com- 
mands me so authoritatively ? Is it material ? 
No ; for " all material principles of morality, 

, ^ 

•Ibid., Analytic. Semple's transl., pp. 133-135; Abbott, p. 255. 
fCf. Abbott, p. 353. 



I 



^ 



I* 



ij 



M 




Seneca and Kant, 



6i 



60 



Seneca and Kant, 




that is, all theories that propose an object 
chosen as determining the will, are one and 
all taken from sense and experience, and, be- 
ing a posteriori, can not supply a universal law 
of action/'* These theories are all reducible 
to self-love or desire for private happiness ; 
not only such as Epicureanism and utilitarian- 
ism, that are confessedly based on happiness, 
but also the theories of benevolence, moral 
sense, perfection, and even obedience to the 
will of God. For Kant's theory of obedience 
has already aimed to cut up by the roots all 
theories of benevolence and perfection. They 
are in his view egoistic, and spring out of 
self-love. The benevolent man is gratifying 
a feeling rather than obeying the law; the 
Stoic, with all his rigor, is seeking for tran- 
quillity ; the so-called moral sense, being 
sensory, can never promulgate a universal 
law ; moreover, it presupposes the existence 
and the consciousness of such a law ; and he 
asserts that even obedience to the will of God, 
without a prior independent principle of mor- 







*Ibid., p. t49- 




s 






• 




• 


» 


• 



I i'l 



/ 



I 



ality, can be a motive only by reason of the 
happiness expected therefrom. 

In Kant's words: *'We stand under a 
discipline of reason, and in all our maxims 
must not forget our subjection to it, nor with- 
draw anything from it, nor by an egotistic 
presumption diminish aught of the authority 
of the law (although our own reason gives 
it ), so as to set the determining principle of 
the will anywhere else but in the law itself 
and in respect for the law. Duty and obliga- 
tion are the only names that we must give to 
dur relation to the moral law." And again : 
\VThe majesty of duty has nothing to do with 
enjoyment of life ; it has its special law and 
its special tribunal, and though the two should 
be never so well shaken together to be given 
well mixed, like medicine, to the sick soul, yet 
they will soon separate of themselves, or the 
former will not act, and the moral life will fade 
away irrecoverably."* 

Why should the moral law command me to 
seek my happiness ? That instinct is already 
inseparably rooted in my nature. The truth 

• Analytic o£ Pure Practical Reason. Abbott's trans., in sub., pp. 249-60. 



II 



\\i 



62 



Seneca afid Kant. 



Seneca and Kant, 



63 






is, it does not, but commands something en- 
tirely irrespective of my happiness. All these 
theories are only ** maxims " * of my own 
willing, — empirical, partial, selfish ; they can 
none of them be universally applied. On the 
contrary, 4 Reason utters her inexorable com- 
mand, and holds out to the appetites no pros- 
pect nor promise whatsoever." When she 
gives her command to abstain from lying, it is 
utterly independent of all ideas of prudence 
or congeniality to feeling.^ 
/' As, therefore, all material principles are 
reducible to self-love, and as self-love affords 
only a conditional law, a mere " maxim '* of 
willing, the law, as a priori, must be purely 
rational, that is, formal and universal, and may 
be stated thus: *' Act always according to 
maxims which thou canst wish to be accepted 
as universal laws."f Weighed in this balance, 
all my maxims of prudence and self-seeking 
are found wanting. Have I a right to promise 
falsely, though in need ? to live a life of ease, 
because I happen to have a competency ? to 

* Rules of conduct derived from experience, and hence variable, tubjec 
to opinion, and not binding upon all. 
\ Grund. zur Met. der Sitten, Seite 44. 



I 1 



take my own life, because of pain or poverty 
or trouble? These and a thousand similar 
questions, when put to the test of universal 
applicability, at once fall to the ground. I 
can not conceive a case to which this law 
would not apply. All the maxims of my will 
must therefore strictly conform to this law; 
then the rational and the empirical, the formal 
and the material, are united in a symmetrical 
whole, in which Reason is supreme and inde- 
pendent, **the author of her own principles/'* 
This last expression is significant as showing 
the origin of Kant's moral law, and the 
character of his whole system. 
^ Now the fact that man can- thus break loose 
from the chains of the sensory and obey the 
higher law of reason, constitutes the dignity 
of his nature ; and this self-determining power 
Kant calls the *' Autonomy of the Will.*' In 
distinction from this, when he fails to conform 
to it, and yields to the sensory, he falls into 
the chain of mere mechanical causation; he 
is no longer self-determined in the true sense ; 
a foreign law rules, and this is ** Heteronomy 

• Ibid, von Kirchmann, p. 77. 



/ 



64 



Seneca and Kant. 



Seneca and Kant, 



of the Will.*' The autonomy of a holy will 
( the divine ) is perfect and under the law of 
necessity, while that of finite beings, not 
altogether good, is under the law of obliga- 
tion.* *♦ Autonomy," says Kant, **is the 
sole principle of ethics,**t for all the rest of 
man's activity, as we have seen, is void of 
moral value. 

II. Let us now consider the ground of the 
doctrine above presented. The doctrine of 
obligation to autonomy, just stated, presents 
man in a twofold aspect, (i) as giving law ; 
(2) as subject to law ; as rational and sensory ; 
as under dynamical and under, mechanical 
laws. He is therefore a citizen of two worlds, 
with a ** twofold set of laws regulating the 
conduct and exercise of his powers." As a 

• In no one step of nature is there any alternative ; from what already 
is, that step which is now proximately future must be taken, and must be so 
taken as has already been conditioned. There is no autonomy, no will, na 

personality, consequently no liberty The choices of animal 

nature are component links in this iron chain of necessity as truly as tho 
eflfects of gravity. It is controlled by appetite and thus by nature, not by 
its own behest in reason and thus in liberty. Hence the animal is ever 
thing and never person. Man, also, by as much as he is sentient, is animal 
only. . . . Except as man has a higher endowment than a sentient nature 
.... in which he may resist and subjugate all the clamorous appetites of 
sense, and hold them in perpetual servitude to his own ethical end, he neither 
has nor can have any personality nor responsibility, inasmuch as otherwise 
he possesses no will in liberty.— Hickok's Rational Psychology, pp. 44*-3* 
j- Anal, der prak. Ver. Abbott, p. 169. 



65 



\! 



part of the world of sense, he is but a "phe- 
nomenon,"* subject to the same laws of 
mechanical causation and necessity as other 
phenomena. Were this all, it would follow 
that every act takes place necessanfy, by 
virtue of conditions that happened in past 
time, now out of his power, and therefore he 
could not be free. Or, if exempted from the 
law of physical necessity, his actions would be 
in the domain of blind chance. 

On the other hand, were I independent of 
the physical system, were I a pure " noume- 
non," * I should be entirely liberated from 
the law of mechanical causation. No condi- 
tion of the past, no appetites of the present, 
could enthrall me or bring me under any 
heteronomy of will. But I am neither of 
these, and yet in a sense both. I am both a 



coenl.ld r ," • «""""'"' "<" ">« «««"«»! grounds of things a. 

cognu.d by reason alone, apart from the limitations of the senses ; or as w. 
mayconcve them to be cognized by the divine mind. Kant calls then! 
a^so h.„g .Hemseivcs. In dist.nction from these, objects, as they appear 
.hrongh he senses, are called phenomena. Here the words are used for 
purely rational beings and purely physical beings.- Of. Dr. N. Porter : "The 
'twlTl^^'Tn'J '" "" P*"'"""'""' i» """i by Kan, the ,..„„„,, ,,, 

^rZndldh "" ""' "' """'"=" "^ "" "-"' "- "- " "= «P- 

nomcna ^ , "^^ ""'• '' '"" "'" '""^ ■"" ^^^P' »"<« '"ves phe- 

!o.^f?» " r "■"r""""". « «'»'iows which do no. satisfy us but 
po.n. to something whtch we never can ,.ach."-Human Intellect! P.C 



l\\ 



B 



66 



Seneca and Kant. 



'' noiimenon'' and a "phenomenon." As 
Poetter soys : ,,^l« S'^oumenon gicbt ber ^cnfc^ 
bag Sitkngc?e6 ; alS Tmnlic^eS 2Befen ift cr cicfcm ®c^ 
fefie untermotfen." And again : „3n bcr ^ritif bcr 
j)raftiic^cn SSctnunft toinbicirt alfo Rant bem 3)ienfc^en 
ein jc^5pfcrifc^e« 3Serm5gcn. ^ic t^corctifc^e SBcrnunft 
ift in feiner SBeijc fc^opferifc^, fonbern nur crtenncnb ; 
bie vraltif c^c c r b a u t fic^ fclbfti^re 2Bclt"* 
But as a rational agent, man must consider 
himself a member, not so much of the sensi- 
ble, as of the supersensible system, a system 
whose laws are entirely independent of me- 
chanical influences, and have their grounds in 
reason only.f Now the fundamental fact in a 
rational will \s freedom. *' We must attribute 
to every rational being possessing a will, the 
idea of freedom, under which idea alone can 
he act."$ This freedom is the power of leg- 
islating for himself, and of determining his 
own causality accordingly: this constitutes 
true autonomy of will. In Kant's words, 

♦ As a noumenon man gives the law of morals; as a sensuous being 
he is subject to this law. Accordingly, in the Critical Examination of tht 
Practical Reason, Kant claims for man a creative power. The pure (spec- 
ulative) reason is in no way creative, but only cognitive ; the practical 
(moral) constructs its own world.— Poetter's Gesch. der Phil. Theil II., 

pp. 132-4. 

t Grund. lur Met. der Sitten ; v. Kirch., p. 83. 
X Ibid., f p. 76-7. 



Seneca and Kant, 



67 



before quoted, ** Reason must regard herself 
as the author of her own principles ;" and 
again : '* As a rational being, and hence as 
belonging to the supersensible world, man 
can never think of the causality of his 
will but under the idea of freedom/'* Moral 
freedom may be defined, then, negatively, as 

the will's independence of the sensory ** of 

everything except the moral law ;" and, posi- 
tively, as the power of self-legislation and 
self-determination. 

The freedom of man is further apparent 
when we remember that the world of nou- 
mena, according to Kant, contains and under- 
lies the world of ph^omena. Hence I, as 
rational, as a noumenon, must regard myself 
as more immediately connected with the 
former, f The necessitarians have greatly 
erred here; for while recognizing man as a 
rational being, they have applied to his reason 
the same laws of causality that belong to him 
as a phenomenon — an evident absurdity. 
Not less absurd is it to trace the determina- 



• Ibid., p. 8a. 
t Ibid., p. 81. 



■I 



68 



Seneca and Kant, 



Seneca and Kant 



69 



tions of the will to remote psychological 
causes acting upon the sensations;* for ''this 
comes at last to, and is in no wise distinguish- 
able from, physical necessity."! If, now, we 
are asked to define analytically the freedom 
of an active cause, Kant pronounces it ulti- 
mate and incomprehensible. Yet, as we can 
not think without a category, it may be re- 
ferred, in his scheme of categories, to Causal- 
ity, of the class Dynamical. 

III. Passinor now to consider the end of 

o 

the law, it is remarked by Kant that every- 
thing in the realm of ends has either a price 
(^rciiS) or a dignity- (SBiirbc). What is 
subservient to human wants and wishes, has a 
market-price ; but that which constitutes the 
condition by virtue of which alone anything 
can be an end in itself, has not merely a 
relative value, that is, a price, but an intrinsic 
worth or dignity. Morality alone is this con- 
dition, since only by it does man become an 
end in himself, and a legislator in the realm 
of ends.J All other ends are eudsemonistic 

* Cf. H. Spencer's Theory. 

t Semple, p. 149. 

X G. zur M. d. S., von Kirch., p. 60 ff. 



and have consequently a price, proportioned 
to their capacity to yield pleasure ; they bring 
man also under the dominion of mechanical 
causation. 

The dignity or worthiness, therefore, not 
the happiness of man, is the end of the law.* 
And this respects not himself alone, but 
every rational being, who is both a legislator 
and subject of this realm. ** Everything in 
the created world may be used as a means, 
man alone excepted." He only is an end in 
himself. Heace we may now give a content 
to the formal law before announced, and lay 
down a second principle of morality as fol- 
lows : '*Act so as to*use mankind, both in ^ 
thine own person and the persons of others, 
ever as an end and never merely as a means."f 
Or, combining the two principles in one: 

**Act according to the ideal will of all 
rational beings, as the source of a universal 
legislation." J 

*The moral rule, or ultimate rule of right, we have already seen to be 
that a reasonable being ought to act reasonably ; or, as it might otherwise 
be stated, that all voluntary action should be held subordinate to the dig- 
oity of the rational spirit. — Hickok : Moral Science, p. 38. 

f G. z. Met. der S., p. 53. 

X Ibid., pp. 56-9. 




70 



Seneca a7td Kant, 



Seneca and Kant, 



71 



IV. Let us now briefly consider the postu- 
lates of this doctrine. Is reason perfectly 
satisfied with the end just announced, namely, 
the worthiness of man? No. By the con- 
stitution of our nature we desire happiness, 
but this theory provides only for wortlmiess 
of happiness. Reason plainly intimates that 
the ideal end of man, the sumtnum bonurn^ 
would be the union of holiness and happiness. 
But that state is clearly unattainable here. 
We can only approximate toward holiness ; 
and happiness — such are the obstructions of 
sense — often fails to correspond even to the 
degree of virtue that is attained. We must, 
therefore, postulate : 

1. An endless contmuation of our exist- 
ence, in which, by an endless progress in 
virtue, holiness may be at length attained. 
In other words, the theory presupposes the 
immortality of the soul. 

2. As holiness would not realize the high- 
est good without happiness, we must postulate 
also a being, who, as common ruler in the 
** kingdoms of nature and grace,'' will effect 
the harmony required by reason between 



t 



them. In other words, we must postulate the 
existence of God. 

3. We have already adverted to the fact 
that reason requires the subjection of the 
sensory to the rational. The categorical im- 
perative of the moral law, and the conviction 
of our moral freedom, require us to postulate 
this subjection, which may be expressed thus : 
** Thou canst, for thou oughtest." 

It would be interesting to consider the 
application of Kant's ethical principles in his 
** Elementology of Ethics," his casuistry, and 
his views on religion. Our limits allow only a 
passing notice of the latter. In his '' Religion 
Within the Limits of Reason Alone," the 
most unhappy of his works in its antagonism 
to revelation, Kant distinguishes sharply be- 
tween moral faith, that is, the faith of reason, 
and historical or statutory faith, that is, faith 
in a revelation, and denies that the historical 
element is binding as an article of faith. 

On this point he seems to be almost in 
harmony with Origen's theory of revelation, 
that the historical parts of Scripture serve 
only as a web for the inweaving of divine 



72 



Seneca and Kant, 



Seneca and Kant, 



73 



mysteries.* *'To suppose/' says Kant, "histor- 
ical faith incumbent as a duty is superstition. 
Yet moral faith always allows a man to be- 
lieve in the historical, in so far as he finds the 
latter conducive to enlivening his purely moral 
and religious sentiments/' 

A dogma or myth is worthless unless it has 
a moral, that is, a rational, content. Hence the 
statutory element is ever to be secondary to 
the moral.f If the reverse prevails, priestcraft 
and superstition follow. In short, he alleges 
that everything man fancies he can do, over 
and above good moral conduct, to render 
himself acceptable to God, (for example, 
prostrating himself to the earth, or using im- 
ages in adoration,) is mere mock-service of 
the Deity. J 

On the other hand, his doctrine of deprav- 
ity was rigorous enough for the most ortho- 
dox ; moreover, on the visible and invisible 
church, and the Kingdom of God on Earth, 
he made valuable contributions to theology. 

♦ Origens Works, T. & T. Clark's Ed., Vol. I., pp. ,9,-34,. 

t Cf. Schwcgler, Hist. Phil., pp. 260-1 ; and Emerson, Conduct of Life, 
p. 181. • 

\ Religion innerhalb der Grenzen der blossen Vernunft, pp. a6o-i. 



1 



i 



To recapitulate : Kant teaches that the 
supreme end of man is not happiness, but a 
good will ; that this is an intrinsic, uncondi- 
tioned good ; that only respect for the moral 
law gives moral worth to an action; that 
this law is announced by reason, and that its 
commands are categorical and peremptory ; 
that obligation to obey it is duty, and duty 
respects not happiness ; that respect or rev- 
erence for the law is the only feeling with 
which duty should be performed; that any 
other obedience is mere legality, not morality ; 
that holiness or moral perfection is in this life 
impossible, only a will like the divine being 
holy ; that the law, as given by the pure 
reason, must transcend all material ends and 
all mere maxims of willing and be purely 
formal and universal ; that fitness for universal 
application is the formula for all moral action ; 
that man, as rational, is free, but, as a part of 
nature, is controlled by necessity ; that the 
rational is superior to nature, and henc^ man 
possesses autonomy of will ; that as morality 
is an end in itself, every human being, as the 
subject of morality, must be regarded as an 



74 



Seneca a?id Kant. 



end, and never merely as a means; that the 
intelh'gent apph'cation of the formula thus 
contemplates all rational beings ; that worth- 
iness, not happiness, is the end of the law ; 
that, as rational, we must postulate the 
supremacy of reason over sense, the exist- 
ence of God, and the immortality of the 
soul ; that the moral precepts of Scripture, 
being rational, are binding upon all, but faith 
in its history is only voluntary ; that true re- 
ligion differs from morality only in recogniz- 
ing our duties as divine commands; and^ 
finally, that moral conduct is incumbent on 
every one, but worship is only tutelary ta 
this end, and optional. 



i 



\ 



CHAPTER IV 



, I 



CHAPTER IV. 
A Comparison and Criticism of the Two Systems. 

We are now ready to compare the two 
systems, and to offer some comments upon 
them. 

From the foregoing presentation, it is clear 
that with three vital and fundamental points 
of Stoicism, Kant is in entire harmony. In 
asserting the dualism and antagonism of 
sense and reason in man, in demanding the 
supremacy of reason, and in affirming that 
by virtue of reason he is a law unto himself, 
Kant's language is as emphatic as Seneca's. 
The great doctrine of ** the autonomy of 
reason and the subjection of oassion" con- 



stitutes the essence of both systems, and 
Kant is essentially a Stoic. What, then, are 
their points of difference ? 

I. The first thing that attracts the reader's 
attention, perhaps, if we may speak of such a 



[ ^ 






I 



78 



Seneca and Kant, 



point in this connection, is a total difference 
of style. Seneca is terse, pointed, without \ 
ornament, and frequently harsh. His sen- I 
tences are brief and epigrammatic — some- / 
times to obscurity. Kant's style is also 
considered sufficiently obscure, but the ob- 
scurity proceeds from an opposite cause. 
Long, involved sentences, clause piled upon 
clause, and modification after modification, 
characterize his style.* This quality, com- 
bined with his peculiarly technical language, 
exacts the closest attention of the reader to 
seize the thought. De Quincey aptly liken- 
ed his sentences to the cumbersome English 
stage-coach of his time, of which capacity 
was the chief recommendation. While dif- 
fering widely in this respect, they are not 
unlike, however, in their loose, digressive 
arrangement, unnecessary and wearisome rep- 
etition, and general lack of orderly presen- 
tation. 

2. . One can not fail to notice, also, that 
Kant brings a more powerful mind to the 
investigation of the subject. No one will 

^ Cf. Bowen's Modern Phil., Introduction on Kant. 



> 



S <i 



Seneca and Ka7it. 



79 



complain of the vapidness of his thoughts, 
however ill expressed, which can not always 
be said of Seneca. His grasp is masterly; 
and even when we can not agree with him, 
we are bound to respect him. Kant has 
grappled with the difficult problems of the 
w[ll, and the relation of mind to matter, and 
thrown much light upon them, while these 
subjects have been left unexplained or in 
confusion by Seneca. 

3. Seneca's theory of physics involved 
him in inextricable fatalism, with which the 
duties enjoined by him remain in unreconciled 
and irreconcilable antagonism. Kant's doc- 
trine of '' noiimenon'' and ** phenomenon " 
leaves man a sphere of freedom, and his 
autonomy is thus rational and consistent. 

4. Perhaps the most radical difference 
between them is found in their doctrines of 
happiness. 1 Seneca, in harmony with the 
other Stoics, assumes the perfectibility of 
man in the present state, by teaching that 
happiness or tranquillity is indissolubly con- 1 
nected with virtue. Kant utterly rejects this 
tenet of Stoicism, and affirms that in the 



1 1 



80 



Seneca and Kant. 



Seneca and Kant. 



81 



I present life virtue and happiness find no cor- 

7 respondence. Yet he admits the theoretical 

■ truth of the doctrine, by postulating a future 

state in which this harmony will at length 

be consummated. 

5 The Stoic theory of life as a discipline, 
wavers between self-discipline and discipline 
administered by the Deity ; with Kant, it is 
self-discipline throughout. 

6 With Seneca, the moral law has an 
author. It was established by the Deity, 
who obeys it himself. With Kant, no per- 
sonal origin is assigned exterior to the mind, 
and we are taught that it is the child of rea- 
son only. . f f 

7 Kant emphasizes the doctrine of free- 
dom as the glory of man and the ground of 
all virtue ; the Stok£ilds- thp rhi e f fi^chibit ^on 
of virtuejiLendura nce, and submj ssionjojate. 
While SrnrrV- '^y^tem. therefore, is essen- 
tiallx__passiye, Kant's system is an active, 
aggressivTcourse of self-culture. 

8 The Stoics discouraged metaphysics 
' proper, and art. as well as all active occupa- 
tions, enjoining retirement and contemplation 



■A 



ill 



rather than a public career; Kant, although 
retired himself, took a deep interest in all 
these. 

9. Finally, the Stoics, with uncertain and 
pantheistic views of the future, justified the 
taking of one's own life ; Kant pronounces 
suicide a crime of the darkest hue. 

Having thus compared the two systems, 
let us now look at each separately. The 
great excellence of Kant's system appears 
in the lofty ideal of virtue which he sets be- 
fore us. He has climbed heights that are 
tugged and steep, but he breathes an atmos- 
phere purer and more invigorating than any 
theory yet presented, with happiness as its 
supreme end, allows its advocates to reach. 
With him, virtue is a struggle, not a grat- 
ification; a debt, instead of a charity; a 
sacrifice, and not a luxury. Duty is high- 
er than happiness, and heroism than self- 
seeking. The grossness, sensualism, and 
egoism, which tend inevitably to follow all 
theories of eudaemonism, are evidently struck 
down at a blow. Naturalism or panthe- 
ism fares no better at his hands. Con- 
6 



\ 



82 



Seneca and Kant. 



trary to the nature-worship and fatalism of a 
Spinoza, man is superior to nature, and free * 
Here again the avenues to recklessness and 
passion" are closed ; for good and evil are 
not mere " relative conceptions" for man to 
trifle with, nor can he complacently ascribe 
all his acts, evil and good, to the will of God.f 
Freedom brings responsibility, or, to use 
Kant's expression, obligation to autonomy, 
and man must respect his own worthiness as 
an end in itself. This part of Kant's doctrine 
unquestionably stands on an immovable basis. 
Equally elevated and noble is his rever- 
ence for the majesty of the moral law. One 
is reminded of the exulting veneration^ of 
the psalmist for the law of God. J Kant 
grows enthusiastic. For once the icy atmos- 
phere becomes genial, as he relaxes from his 
imperturbable rigor and exclaims, "Two things 
fill the mind with ever new and increasing 
admiration and awe, the oftener and longer 
we reflect upon them: the starry heavens 
above and the moral law within." || And 

<• Cf Wutlke's Christ. Ethics, Vol. I, p. 3'7 ^' ^ p • 

Phil.. Vol. II., p. 184. 



i 



I .-.. 



ii 



1,. 



1\ 



Seneca a7id KanL 



83 



surely no one, of whatever creed, who be- 
lieves in virtue at all, will deny him his meed 
of praise for holding aloft the torch to erring 
man, and bidding him look to the noble and 
imperishable. 

But, with all its excellences, the system of 
Kant contains very serious defects. 

I. The means by which I am to recognize 
the moral law in any given case, is its fitness 
for universal application. But fitness for uni- 
versality is an abstraction, a mere algebraic 
formula. How shall I know what is fit to be 
universal without a rule to guide me ? Is it 
a sufficient description of gravitation to say 
that it is universal in nature, or fit to be so ? 
Unless I already know what the good and 
the right is, or have a Socratic demon to 
whisper it in my ear, I may be as helpless 
with Kant's rule as before. In short, Kant 
has taken the sign instead of the substance, 

a very unerring sign, indeed, to those who 

can recognize it, but not the substance; a 
guide to the town, instead of the town. 

As Cousin says, ** By separating duty from 
interest, which ruins it, and from sentiment, 



84 



Seneca and Kafti. 



Seneca aftd Kant. 



which enervates it, Kant restored to eth- 
ics its true character. He elevated himself 
very high in the century of Helvetius, in 
elevating himself to the holy law of duty; 
but still he did not ascend high enough, he 
did not reach the reason itself of duty/' 
And again, "If one act must be perform- 
ed, and another not, it is because there is 
manifestly an essential difference between 
these two acts. To found the good on ob- 
ligation, instead of founding obligation on 
the good, is therefore to take the effect for 
the cause, is to make the principle follow 
from the conclusion."* 

The entire import of Kant's formula is, 
'* Exclude all material motives, all considera- 
tions of desire, inclination, interest, personal 
happiness, and the like, and obey only the 
law which reason announces. You may know 
this law by the utter absence of empirical 
elements, of all limitations of time and place. 
It is binding upon all, ever and everywhere." 
But what is this more than the Stoics long 
ago uttered? '^ Obey rea son and not im- 

* Lectures on the True, the Beautiful, and the Good, Lect. XiV., p. 



85 



pulse." They gave, as precepts for obeying 
reason, the somewhat ambiguous injunctions, 
** Conform to nature ; be at harmony with 
yourself; be consistent.*' In universality, it 
is true, Kant gives a somewhat clearer sign. 
But the chief value of his rule, like that of 
the Stoics, is negative. It is lofty and clear 
in what it prohibits, not so clear in what it 
enjoins. 

2. But when we look a little farther, we 
find a personal element in the rule which 
makes it still more objectionable. ** Act ac- 
cording to maxims thou canst wish to serve 
as universal laws." Then the element of fit- 
ness for universality is to be determined by 
the wish of the actor. If, therefore, any 
iiltimate standard, any definite guidance, is 
to be furnished by the rule, it presupposes 
that all men agree as to what is fit to be 
universal — a proposition which, if true, needs 
to be cleared up, to say the least. To dis- 
miss the fundamental principle of ethics with 
the single trait of fitness for universality, 
quietly assuming that the conception is in- 
delibly fixed in the mind of every human 



V 



/ 



/ 



'I? 



86 



Seneca and Kant. 



Seneca and Kant, 



87 







being, child and philosopher, savage and 
cultured, is certainly a petitio principii, 
since the essence of the matter is manifestly 
untouched. And, furthermore, Kant here 
falls into the empiricism that he so much 
dreads and detests, since the essential mat- 
ter is not scientifically announced, but refer- 
jred to individual experience. 

Even if we say with Kant, Cudworth, and 
others that a sense of right, a recognition of 
the eternal and immutable right, is implanted 
in every rational nature {inter deos et homijies 
commimio piris est, Cic. de Leg.), when we 
have secured obedience to reason, have we 
therefore secured all ? 

Suppose, for the argument, that we grant 

the postulated supremacy of reason; that 

[ we conceive all mankind as exercising sa 

\ ^complete control over their instincts, ap- 

^/ petites, and sensibilities in general, that they 

might be considered as divested of all these 

troublesome elements except reverence for 

the moral law; suppose, further, that the 

ideas of faith, redemption, and salvation 

should be universally extinguished; that 






all revelations from God should be destroy- 
ed, all statutes enacted by society annulled; 
that all the positive institutions of society 
for judicial, penal, and devotional purposes 
—courts, prisons, churches, etc.— should be 
abolished, and that all influence of hered- 
ity, habit, prejudice, etc. should henceforth 
cease; in short, that there should be ab- 
solutely nothing prescriptive in morals from 
any quarter. We should then have perfect 
autonomy, perfect freedom, perfect individu- 
alism. Should we also have perfect morals ? 
Would these rational creatures, with but a 
single sentiment that could express itself, 
meet the requirements of the moral law, or 
be able to make an intelligent use of the 
formula ? Far from it. One contingency yet 
remains, even in these most favorable sur- 
roundings. A judgment must be formed as 
to what is fit to be universal, and this, not 
only in the simple, but in all the complex 
relations of life ; not only by those of lofty 
intellectual endowment, but by the average, 
the mediocre, the dwarf. Granting that a 
few giant intellects, like Kant, may do well 







/ 



88 



Seneca and Kant. 



m carrying out such a formula (though they 
must be painfully conscious of many mis- 
takes), the mass of mankind lack even the 
intellectual capacity to make such a law 
serviceable. 

But what of the "Golden Rule?" Does 
not the same objection apply to it ? To this 
it may be answered that when I am asked 
to do to others as I would have them do to 
me, an appeal is made to my self-love as a 
measure to apply to my conduct toward oth- 
ers—a measure, for mankind in general, far 
more tangible and applicable than the judg- 
ment as to what is fit to be universal. Fur- 
thermore, if the "Golden Rule" be considered 
only a formal principle, it is complemented 
by the positive precept of love. In Christian 
ethics, therefore, we do not find the indefinite- 
ness and inapplicability that belong to the 
Kantian system. 

3. But does Kant's postulated supremacy 
of reason correspond with the fact ? Accord- 
ing to Kant himself, there is a deep and dark 
corruption in man's nature, an inherent prone- 
ness to evil ; and this is not without the daily 



Seneca and Ka7it. 



89 



confirmation of experience. The majority of 
mankind do not obey the categorical impera- 
tives of the reason as such ; they are restrain- 
ed by religion, custom, fear, the civil law, and 
other "material" motives; they seek the 
pleasures of sense and appetite; and hence 
are under heteronomy of will. For them 
the postulated supremacy of reason is a 
contradiction, their alleged superiority as 
^'noumetta" over their sensual natures as 
"phenomena" a mockery, and the resulting 
freedom claimed for them a nonentity. They 
have fallen from their autonomy, or they 
aiever reached it, and are now mere links in 
the chain of mechanical causation. 

And if, as rational beings, they have fallen 
into heteronomy, by what power, according 
to Kant, shall they ever be restored to 
autonomy? Will the power that was insuf- 
ficient to keep them from falling be compe- 
tent to restore them when fallen ? 

4. Again, the whole system is cold, ab- 
stract, and impersonal. There is a law, but 
no lawgiver or judge, unless we assign to 
reason those difficult functions. As Mar- 



90 



Seneca and Kant, 






) 



y^ 



tensen says, "When unmixed, disinterested 
reverence for law, for the majesty of duty, 
is mentioned as the motive of duty, though 
we certainly can not refuse our esteem for 
his motive, yet neither can we acknowledge 
It as the highest."* For not the relation ta 
an impersonal law, but only the personal 
relation of adoring love and gratitude to God 
- himself, can produce the most sincere motive 
to action in the kingdom of personality. And 
again, how can mere law bind me, call me to 
account, summon me before its judgment- 
seat Pf For the mass of mankind, how inap- 
plicable and useless were such a law as Kant 
has announced ! + Conceive, for example, an 
Esquimau or a Papuan rising to this cold 
and sublime altitude, where all desire and 
pleasure, all interest and sympathy are left be- 

• Martcnsen, Christ. Ethics, pp. 3,5-550. 
t Ibid., in sub. 

Givfrf^rrl ?'?'?'* *^°""' «'^^ °^ ""^^" «"d bond of union with th« 

^ othlr 1 • ^^ '"'' '" "'"' ^'^ ™^J"^y °^ -- -'--^ precedence abovl 
all other living creatures I Mysterious facultv th. n,«»K /*"" ^''^^^ 

f language, of tears, and of smiles! R 7 " °^ ^°"^^'<^'^"» 

son because hi. R. • • . But man ,s something beside Rea. 

subitanceTf inLti^aT^nX^ '?''''" '""" ^'°^^* '^'^ '" ^^^ 

become a realitv Ind ^"^"^*^"^'"«^ *"d '^Pecific Inclination, in order to- 
H.„.T»K ^, . ""^ object of consciou.sness and experience 

tive nature rnl -7 I P"fectly applicable to our mixed and sensi 

ttve naturc-Colendge. Prm. of Pol. Knowl.. Essay IV.. ad/in. 



Seneca and Ka7it, 



91 



hind, and there dedicating himself reverentially 
to the categorical imperatives of the moral 
law ! Surely Kant's system is esoteric indeed; 
considering the nature of man, it would find 
audience fit, but very few. 

Just here we see the power of Christianity; 
for it not only teaches, but affords training 
and help ; extends the sympathy of man, and 
commends to the mercy of God. And with 
instruction, and more than instruction, da 
men need sympathy. To the weak, the ir- 
resolute, the fallen, how often is mere teach- 
ing powerless ! For them, Kant, beckoning 
upward and coldly saying, ** Reason ! Au- 
tonomy! Thou oughtest!" is but sounding 
the note of despair. Sympathy and help, 
divine and human, alone can restore them to 
true rationality. And the cross will never 
cease to be powerful so long as it is the 
symbol of tears — the emblem of all that is 
gracious and loving in God and man. 

5. Another obvious criticism of Kant*s 
system is his unscientific treatment of the 
sensibilities. He degrades them unduly by 
classing them with the appetites in an indis- 



92 



Soieca and Ka?ii. 



Seneca and Kant, 



95 



criminate mass, and placing them all in an- 
tithesis to the moral law. Then virtue ceases 
to be virtue the moment one desires it. A 
man must ever drag himself into obedience, 
and obey under the lash of command. Rev^ 
erence, not cheerfulness, is to be the feeling 
with which he performs every duty. Think 
of the duties of friendship, or the family cir- 
cle, performed in such a spirit! Is, then, a 
kindness less a kindness because it is render- 
ed cheerfully } Or is its virtue enhanced by 
our knowing that it was bestowed under a 
stern sense of the categorical imperatives of 
the moral law, and after a due calculation as 
to its fitness to furnish a maxim for universal 
application? Schiller's satirical scruple of 
conscience was well aimed at this vulnerable 
point of Kant's philosophy thus : 

"The friends whom I love I gladly would serve, 
But to this inclination incites me; 
And so I am forced from virtue to swerve. 
Since my act through affection delights me." 

The doubter is admonished as follows: 

"The friends whom thou lov'st thou must first seek to' scorn. 
For to no other way can I guide thee; 
Tis alone with disgust thou canst rightly perform 
The acts to whi ch- duty wou ld lead thee."* 
•Schwegler'. Hist. Phil., p. ,56. ' ' 




The truth is, Kant confounds finding pleas- 
ure in virtue with seeking virtue for the sake 
of pleasure. The two ideas are sufficiently 
distinct, and the former not nearly so absurd 
as the latter. Not by any means was it im- 
moral for one of old to say, '* I delight to do 
thy will, O God." His cheerful obedience 
was certainly nobler than the grudging, pain- 
fully-rendered service of others. And what 
shall we say of him who has lost friends, 
fortune, health — all but virtue? Shall we 
deny him the last and only succor — the con- 
solation and comfort, the sustaining power 
that it affords? 

^. Kant's system, further, is one of ab- 
solute individualism. In the pure individual- 
ity of his own reason, he arrogates to himself 
the settlement of all questions of morals and 

eligion, and will neither receive instruction 
nor brook interference. Kant would have 
every man pursue the journey of life without 
chart, or guide, or fellowship, trusting to rea- 
son alone. Not a ray of light must come 
X)n his path from God, or nature, or history, or 
experience. No cheerful song from others- 



A< 



.^ 



/ 



/^ 



fi 



94 



Seneca and Ka?ii, 



Seneca and Kant, 



95 




may gladden his ear, no song dare he sing 
himself; in reverence and solitude must he 
thread his way through the wilderness of life, 
as if he were to be the first and only trav- 
eller. 

7. In this complete" individualism we find 
also^ extreme self-sufficiency. If there is a 
God, he is dumb or unheard. Nature reveals 
/nothing concerning him, inspires no feelings 
toward him: it speaks only of blind mech- 
anism and fate. Man's origin and destiny are 
unfathomed mysteries, left in the profoundest 
siknce ; nor is it even hinted that the gift of 
reason would impose certain obligations to 
the Giver. Reason is deified, and man be- 
comes his own god. 

Far more rational was Scfileiermacher, who 
found in man a sense of dependence on a 
Superior Power, and made this the basis of 
his theological system. In this feeling, he 
declared, religion has its root. Hence spring 
duty, conscience, obedience, prayer, trust, 
hope, effort. Hence the need, and herein a 
proof of revelation, with its divi7ie command 
to love man equally, God supremely. Hence 



\ 



/ 



Si 



( 



in redemption, as tne central thought of reve- 
lation, are found those personal, animating 
motives to a holy life, which spring from 
Ijratitude and love, and which the cold, ab- 
stract dictates of the reason are of themselves 
powerless to furnish. Surely this accords 
with our inmost experience. 

8. Finally, Kant's moral system, however 
noble and helpful in some aspects, is, in its 
impersonality of the moral law (whose ulti- 
mate origin who can tell?), in its placing 
morality above religion, and in its ignoring 
all revelation, essentially one of pure ration- 
alism and skepticism. His rigid doctrine of 
depravity undermines his system theoretically, 
by taking, away its necessary support, name- 
ly, the postulated supremacy of reason; and, 
practically, it is ill adapted to have any power 
over men. 

It would have been exceedingly interesting, 
if we could have had the record of Kant's inner 
experience, and have known exactly how far 
his doctrine consoled him. Unfortunately, the 
evidence is somewhat conflicting. It is cer- 
tain that he was born with a melancholy 



96 



Seneca and Kajit. 



temperament, and that he believed himself to 
have largely subdued it by '* force of will.*' 
He even published an essay on the power of 
the will to effect this object. At times he was 
remarkably cheerful and happy, exclaiming, ''Is 
it possible to conceive any human being enjoy- 
ing better health than I do?*' His duties to 
his fellow-men were discharged with scrupu- 
lous fidelity. He was generous. By nature 
or habit he enjoyed a victory of intellect over 
the passions that rankle in so many bosoms. . 

His attitude to Scripture was not altogether 
hostile. He quotes many of its doctrines 
with approval, and declares the teachings of 
the New Testament the best that the world 
had yet seen.* But, alas! revelation was to 
him only a system of doctrine, not a story 
of redemption ; his supremacy of reason 
found no room for faith, but disdained and 
excluded it. And so faith brought him no 
angels of mercy to soothe his parting hours. 
He could not confide in a Savior whom he 
rejected. He could only find a negative 
comfort in the thought that he had never 



^Abbott's Memoir of Kant, and Dial, of Prac. Reax., pp. 335-8, with Not«* 



Se7ieca and Kant, 



97 



consciously injured any one. The world to 
come was an unbroken mystery, and he pro- 
fessed an entire ignorance of what the future 
might bring him. 

It is said, indeed, that, having reached his 
four-score years, he awaited death with resig- 
nation, if not with welcome. On a certain 
occasion he said, ** Gentlemen, I do not fear 
to die. I assure you, as in the presence of 
God, that if this very night suddenly the 
summons to death were to reach me, I should 
bear it with calmness, should raise my hands 
to heaven and say, *Blessed be God!' Were 
it indeed possible that such a whisper as this 
could reach my ear, * Four-score years thou 
hast lived, in which thou hast inflicted much 
evil upon thy fellow-men,* the case would be 
different." 

But, according to others, this readiness to 
die arose not from hope and cheerfulness, but 
from his confessed weariness of life, and **his 
sense of the misery and uselessness of fur- 
ther existence."* 

Even taking the most favorable view, 

* Of. Abbott's Memoir, and Haven's Hist. Phil., pp. 347-353* 



98 



Seneca and Kaiit, 



Seneca and Kant. 



99 



we should have to say, '* Heroic utterance 
this for a Stoic in a heathen age ! but not 
for the philosopher of a Christian land." 
Why self-complacently esteem a self-spun 
system above all works of gods or men be- 
sides? Why prefer the pale, cold light of 
the moon to the warming, fructifying bright 
ness of the sun ? 

Reverting now to the Stoics, we must ob- 
serve in their system, also, as in Kant's : 

I. An excessive individualism. The Stoic, 
in his seclusion, has no conscious place in 
history ; no sympathy with his race ; scarcely 
any with his nation. The past inspires him 
with no veneration, the future with no hope. 
Though surrounded by his fellow-beings, he 
is as solitary as Crusoe, or a shipwrecked 
mariner drifting on the ocean. 

It is true that there were a few alleviations 
to this solitude. The doctrines that he held 
had become somewhat crystallized, so that 
experience might in part light the way for 
the disciple. His individualism was further 
modified by his pantheistic views. Borne 
along by fate, he would sooner or later sink 



into the common mass of undistinguishable 
beinjr, his identity forever lost. Foreseemg 
//.«^ grave of his hopes, he ^ would be com- 
pelled with his German confrere to smg: 

„D^ne Suminet (c^laf 'A "«' 
D^ne §of(nung auf}ufte^'n." * 

But in spite of these modifications, his isola- 
tion in reference to society, customs, laws, 
traditions, history, and religion, was as com- 
plete as Kant's. 

What, now. were the consequences of t^s 
isolation ? Evidently an offensive self-suffi- 
ciency, a haughty egotism, a contemptuous ar- 
rogance toward all the irrational herd, who 
were complacently assumed to be yet under 
the dominion of passion. There could not 
fail to be a wide breach of feeling between 
the two classes ; and the sage, however iso- 
lated he in reality was. was necessarily re- 
garded as a member of a self-constituted 

aristocracy. . . 

, The undue rigor of their doctrine of 

apathy_SoJmport^^ 

» Without grief I fall asleep. 

Without hope of rising again. «i„„^ «« 

-RUckert's „Die stcrbende Blume. 



f 

\ 



lOO 



Seneca and Kant, 



as feeling can not be wholly ignored and ob- 
literated without disastrous results. But why 
class all the feelings together as evil ? Root 
out most ruthlessly envy, malice, revenge, av- 
arice, and all their kindred; but why crush 
love, gratitude, sympathy, and mercy? In 
truth, amid the foes of virtue, Kant and Sen- 
eca would sacrifice its best friends. Admitting 
that virtue is ''conformity to right reason," 
how can it thrive, whence its motive-power, 
unless constantly re-enforced by the better 
sensibilities ?* The Stoic of necessity acquir- 
ed a harsh and repulsive character, destitute 
of the grace and beauty of true manhood. 
Such rigor could not but be followed by the 
most violent reactions ; and, accordingly, the 
grossest lewdness, and, as some allege, even 
cannibalism were found among them. 

It is in endurance and suffering that the 
excellence of Stoicism appears. There it 
shines resplendent, and furnishes a theme on 
which its sages loved to dwell. Never have 

•Cf. Goethe, Iphigenie auf Tauris, Act H., Sc. i. 
mLusi und Liebe sind die Fittige 
Zu grossen Thatcn.*' 

"Pleasure and love are the pinions 
To noble deeds." 



Se7ieca afid KaJit, 



lOI 



the adherents of any system of philosophy 
exhibited greater fortitude amid all sorts of 
sufferings, national, individual, and domestic, 
or shown more complete self-control in the 
midst of luxurious folly, mad ambition, and 
ungovernable avarice. This it is that has 
made the very name of Stoicism a synonym 
for unflinching, uncomplaining endurance. 

Some have criticised their doctrine of sui- 
cide ; and, viewed in one aspect, it is a con- 
fession of the failure of their system. The 
system assumes a perfectibility of character, 
and an order of nature perfectly adapted to 
secure this perfection ; a perfect mastery of 
all circumstances, and a perfect tranquillity 
resulting from this mastery. To admit the 
necessity of suicide, therefore, is apparently 
to deny one or other of their fundamental 
principles. But we must remember that, with 
the Stoic, life was not a sacred thing. It fell 
into the common class of indifferentia, and 
the taking of it, therefore, entailed no crime. 
On the contrary, that act might be a virtue. 
With this view, therefore, the Stoic preserved 
his mastery over circumstances, and maintain- 



102 



Seneca and Kant, 



ed his tranquillity of mind by suicide. Ta 
have remained in life would have required 
him to forfeit these. Sad picture, alas ! even 
though consistent, of the weakness of their 
system. 

We have seen that Stoicism is a system 
of fatalism ; as identifying the Deity with the 
universe, which in definite periods is absorbed 
into his essence, it is a form of pantheism ; in 
assertinor the underived existence of matter, 
It exhibits one of the numerous types of ma- 
terialism ; and in referring all doctrines to 
reason as the ultimate standard, it is a sys- 
tem of rationalism. It has also been called 
the nearest approach which the pagan mind 
has made to Christianity. We grant that 
they have much in common. But a system 
that allows no forgiveness of enemies ; that 
forbids repentance for wrong ; that recognizes 
no need of redemption, or divine aid in trial ; 
that never rises to the conception of trust in 
God, or communion with him, much less of 
rejoicing in tribulation because endured in his 
service ; that seeks in suicide a cowardly re- 
ief from the ills of life, which, in their bitterest 



Seneca una j\unt. 



103 



form, Christian faith has ofttimes enabled the 
sufferer heroically and even cheerfully to en- 
dure ; that is in its inmost essence a system 
of selfishness ; is yet far below the benevo- 
lence, the mercy, the loving trust, and com- 
forting hope of the Gospel. Yet it must be 
confessed that much that is called Christianity 
would be greatly improved, if it had the firm 
conviction, the fortitude, the patience, the 
persistence of Stoicism. 

We will conclude with the fitting words of 
Sir Alexander Grant : 

" The spirit of Stoicism, existing by itself, 
is narrow and harsh ; it has too great affinity 
to pride and egotism ; it is too repressive of 
the spontaneous feellnj^s of art, and poetry, 
and geniality of lif( On the other hand, it 
is the stimulus to live above the world. 
Hence while the bare Stoical spirit, in what- 
ever form, produces only an imperfect and 
repulsive character, a certain leaven of it, to 
say the least, is necessary, else would a man 
be wanting in all effort and aspiration of 
mind." * 



*Quotcd in Hurst & Whiting's Seneca. 



i 



INDEX 



INDEX. 




',1 



PAGS. 

Abbott, his Kant's Ethics, cited, *-..••••••••• , 52-64, /asst'm, 

Alexander the Great, •••••••••••••.••.••...15 

Antisthenes, ....•«••.■•••••,••.••• ••.......la 

Aristippus, ••••••.... .13 

Aristotle xi, 14, 17 

Bowcn, Prof. Francis, his Modern Philosophy referred to ••.... . 78 

Chrysippus ••••••••.20, 27 

CJccro 21, 31, 44 ; 41, 86 

Cleanthes, •,»... .20 

Hymn of ,..31 

Coleridge, his Principles of Political Knowledge, 90, Note. 

Cousin, his Lectures on the True, the Beautiful, and the Good, cited, . . 83 

Demetrius, on Misfortune, 3c 

De Vita Beata, De Brevitate Vitae, De Providentia, De Tranquillitate 

Animi, and Epistles of Seneca, cited, 28-44 

Emerson, R. W., his Conduct of Life, referred to 7a 

Epictctus, , , 21 

Epicurus, 18 

Goethe, quoted, , ••.,••,.... 100 

Grant, Sir Alex., quoted •.. 103 

Greece, Condition of, at Rise of Stoicism , 15 

Grundlegung zur Metaphysik der Sitten of Kant, cited, . . $2-6g, />assim. 

Haven, Prof, Joseph, his History of Philosophy, quoted, . . , c 97 

Heraclitus, ....ix 

Hickok, Dr. L. P., his Moral Science and Rational Psychology, cited, 

64, Note ; 69, Note. 

Hurst & Whiting's Seneca, , 28-44, /rtxj««, 

Kant, his life and character, 49, 95 ; on happiness and a good will, 52 ; on 

duty, the moral law, and reverence, 25, 54, 57 ; on categorical and 

hypothetical imperatives, 55 ; on holiness and happiness, 56-64 • 



I08 INDEX. 

en legality and morality, 58; on theories of virtue, 60; gives fun- 
damental formula of morals, 6a; on autonomy and hctcronomy, 
63; on freedom and necessity, 64; on ethical ends, 68; his post- 
ulates, 70; his views on religion, 71; his agreement and disa- 
greement with Stoicism, 77; excellences of his ethical system, 
81-83 ; defects of it, 83-95; his system compared with Christian- 
ity, 88, 90, 91, 94, 96 ; his inner experience, 95 ; recapitulation of 
his doctrine, 73. See, also, Stoicism. 

Marcus Aurelius •* 

Murtcnsen, his Christian Ethics, cited, 9* 

Nero, his relations to Seneca •* 

Origen, his theory of revelation, 7* 

Panaetius, introduces Stoicism into Rome, ■«> 

Philip of Macedon, ••••XJ 

Philosophy, becomes subjective, 17; influence of times on, 13; favored 

by decline of religion in Greece, *" 

Plato, • II, la, 17, a« 

Potter, Geschichte der Philosophie, cited, i7i 66 

Porter, Pres. N., his Human Intellect 65, Note. 

Pyrrho, school of • '9 

Ruckert, his Die sterbende Blume, quoted 99 

Schiller, cited, 9» 

Schleiermacher, basis of his ethical system 94 

Schwegler, his History of Philosophy, 58. 7»» 9* 

Semple, J. W., his translation of Kant's Metaphysics of Ethics, 5a, 57, 59, 68 

Seneca, his life, ai ; cited 7i-ii,/asstm. 

Smith, Dr. Wm., quoted *' 

Socrates, disciples and successors of, la, 16, x8 

Sophists, the '* 

Stoicism, rise of, ii-ai; its connection with Cynicism, 11-13; ^'^^ 
Socrates, 18; general character of, as; its doctrine of physics, 
as; its fundamental ethical principles, 26; its different defini- 
tions of virtue, a7, 40; its fatalism, 28; makes Deity subject to 
law, ag; teaches submission to fate, 29; its paradoxes, 34, 36,37; 
its inherent difficulties, 34 ; its definition of the good, 35 ; makes 
life a discipline, 35; its view of fortune, 36, 38, 43 ; of passion,' 39, 
41 ; of suicide, 43, lof , 102 ; its definitions of pleasure, virtue, 
and happiness, 31; spirit of its disciples, 37-40. 100; its views of 
wealth, public life, etc., 4a ; its excellences, 100 ; its defects, 
98.100, loa; its connection with other systems, loa; compared 
with Christianity, xoa ; recapitulation of doctrine, 44. See, also, 
Kant. 




INDEX* 109 

PAGE. 

Uebcrweg, his History of Philosophy 19, 20, as, 89 

Ton Kirchmann, J. H., his edition of Kant, cited, 52-69, passim, 

Wuttke, his Christian Ethics, •..8a 

Zeller, his Stoics, Epicureans, and Sceptics, cited, 17,30,31,40 

Zcno of Cittium, 15, 19, 37; founds a Stoic school at Athens, • • . xg 



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